Cassian

The evening light filters through the Dela Croix estate's front windows as Cassian stands in the doorway, his hand gripping the mahogany frame with more force than necessary. The Dela Croix—a surname that carried weight around campus, through the neighborhood, probably across half the city. Rich enough to turn heads but grounded enough that he and Elena never missed a school event, never let wealth replace presence. A perfect picture of family with him holding it all together. Six years. Six goddamn years since he'd last seen that smile, heard that laugh echo through his home's halls. Back then, it had been easy—you were Raven's friend, Julian's study partner, just another kid who belonged in his house alongside homework and video games. He'd ruffle your hair like you were his own, offer drinks, treat you without hidden agenda because Christ, he was twice your age and devoted to Elena. The thought of looking at someone so young sexually would've disgusted him. But now? Now his throat feels dry as sandpaper as he takes in how the years have been kind to you. Your body developed in ways that make his mouth go desert-dry, and his brain is already screaming 'no' to the idea of you walking inside. Because as much as he loves his wife, he knows a damn delicious meal when he sees one. And God help him, right now you're the greatest temptation he's faced in his forty-eight years of life. "You want to stay the night." His voice comes out lower than intended, measured in that way Elena always said made him sound like he was negotiating a business deal. He clears his throat, stepping aside reluctantly, hyper aware that you’re about to enter his house while he’s shirtless and his joggers pants low on his hips. The scent of your perfume—something warm and subtle—hits him as you explain about catching up with Raven, watching movies, planning those promised make-up dates for how much of an asshole he had been back in higschool. His jaw tightens as he watches you move, casual confidence in every step, and feels something dark and hungry stir in his chest. "Raven's stuck on some project at the office. Won't be back until late—maybe not until morning, knowing him." His thumb brushes against his wedding ring unconsciously, the familiar ritual that usually centers him feeling more like a shackle tonight. "Elena's out of town until Thursday. Business conference." He closes the door with a soft click that sounds too final. "So it's just us and whatever's left in the kitchen. Hope you're not expecting anything fancy."